Page 90 of Long Shot

“Yes.” I smile.

“Let me introduce you. Reese, this is Bob Crisoforo, and Loni Quinn. Loni is the producer of my TV show and Bob is my partner in a new restaurant we’re opening in Santa Monica.”

“Oh, you’re opening a new restaurant! That’s awesome.” I know Piccolo in New York is still his, but he spends most of his time on the West Coast now because of his TV show. I smile at Bob and Loni. “Nice to meet you.”

“And you,” Bob says with a smile. “Graham’s been raving about you.”

“Oh.” My cheeks heat and I glance at Graham as I pick up my menu. “Um, thanks?”

He grins. “All good, Reese. I’ve followed your career, you know. You’ve lived up to the potential I saw in you when you started at Piccolo.”

“Thank you.” I keep my response simple, trying to hide my surprise.

“You were getting great press at Nova.”

“Yes. We were.”

“None of that team player shit.”

I blink at him.

“It was you,” he stresses. “Take the goddamn credit for what you accomplished. That was your biggest weakness as a chef.”

Stung, I frown at him. “My weakness was that I wasn’t enough of an asshole?”

He laughs. “Yeah.”

I bend my head and stare unseeingly at the menu. “I don’t want to be an asshole drama queen. I want to make good food. I want to motivate others by setting an example for them, not by abusing them.”

“You think I abused my staff?” He lifts an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Sometimes.”

“Huh.”

I catch the wide-eyed expressions on Bob and Loni’s faces. “Sorry,” I say with a smile. “But I’m sure that doesn’t come as a surprise to you. I’ve watched the show.”

Graham grins. “Youdohave a backbone, darling. I like that.”

A waitress appears to take our orders. My stomach feels tight and unsettled, so I request a two egg omelet with wheat toast. When the waitress departs, I pick up my coffee again and sip it.

“Last night,” Graham says. “That Shakshuka was fabulous. Cilantro, avocado, cotija . . . truly inspired.”

“Thank you.”

“The shrimp mole enchiladas were amazing, too. Your mole sauce . . .” He closes his eyes and sighs with pleasure. “I detected a hint of cinnamon . . . yes?”

I smile. “It’s my secret recipe.”

“Good girl. The ahi enchiladas, though . . . the kale was just wrong.”

I lift my eyebrows and sip her coffee. “In your opinion.”

“Ha. Yes. In my opinion.”

“I loved the ahi enchiladas,” Bob says with a thumbs-up. “Even with the kale.”

“Kale is so over,” Graham says. “I’m using a lot of turnip greens and mustard greens now.”

---